


To Save the Family Business

by kalaglnshe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amulet, Angst, Episode s10e22 AU after Dean's line at Charlie's funeral, Gen, Suicide for a reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 17:17:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10340301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalaglnshe/pseuds/kalaglnshe
Summary: This an AU look at what Sam might do if he found a way to get the Mark off Dean by himself. It is pretty dark, but comes out mostly okay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Suicide trigger warning. It is canon typical for the Winchesters. There is also some swearing because Crowley.

To Save the Family Business

 

Author’s note: This is AU starting from Dean’s line during Charlie’s funeral. That line bothered me a lot. I know it was written to show Dean’s level of darkness, but it was a terrible thing to say to someone as perpetually guilt-ridden as Sam. This is sort of a fix it.

~

“It should be you up there.” Dean ground out. His eyes fixed on the flames now consuming what was left of Charlie.

         Tears shown in Sam’s eyes as he looked from the pyre to his brother. “You think I don’t know that?” Neither spoke the rest of the night. Once back in the bunker, they went to their rooms and shut the doors.

         Once Dean was sleeping, Sam slipped a few things into a pack and left the bunker. He paused briefly to say goodbye to the Impala. He almost lost his nerve then, staring at the black car in the moonlight. Sam shook himself and forced the tears back. He had to do this. It was the only way to rid his brother of the Mark. The only way to make it right. This way Dean would be free to make his own future without the encumbrance of a pain in the ass little brother. Sam had read the Bible. He knew what happened to those who committed suicide. He had gone to Hell already to save Dean. He would do it again. That was the requirement “heart’s blood of the brother, freely given.”

 He walked through a short screen of woods behind the bunker and into a small clearing. He gathered wood into a pyre. He couldn’t bring Charlie back, but he could prevent more suffering. Once the pile was strong enough to hold his weight, he doused it in lighter fluid from his pack. He had stuffed as much salt as he could into the pockets of his pants and the bed sheet was saturated with saltwater. He took off his boots and jacket and put them neatly next to his backpack. Maybe Dean would want them. The last item was a large hunting knife. He had contemplated using Ruby’s knife. However, he didn’t want to take any chances with it getting lost if Dean didn’t come, so he had left it in the armory.

Sam knelt beside the pyre. He looked upwards. “God, I don’t know if you are even out there. But if you are…” he cleared his throat. “I know that I have to die, and I have made my peace with that. Please let this free Dean. My brother has made some mistakes, but he is a good man. He deserves a life free of this life. He deserves to be happy. He’s lost so much already; he deserves this chance. Please help me give it to him.” Wiping his eyes, Sam stood.

He lay down on the pyre and lit it. In a perverse version of going to bed, Sam threw the wet sheet over himself as best he could. He coughed a little as the smoke and accelerant wafted up to him. The incantation was blessedly short as he moved through the Latin he had found in the corner of an old book.  Then he drove the knife into his heart and pulled it out again. He had aimed for the bottom of his heart, knowing it would take a few seconds for him to bleed out. He heard the blood hiss as it hit the fire below him. Pain and blood bloomed across his chest. With the last of his strength, Sam threw the knife towards his pack, and let his arms fall to his chest. The world went dark and he knew no more.

~

         Crowley sat on his throne. He listened to some demon or other prattle on about soul numbers and movement around Hell. He had mostly tuned out when a tall familiar man was brought before him. He was supported between two demons, they were dragging him not because he resisted but because he was just dead weight, too broken to move under his own power. The demons escorting him dumped him on his knees before the throne. The man’s head was bowed under a mop of dark hair and he rested back on his heals. “Well, Moose. This is unexpected.”

         The soul of Sam Winchester didn’t look up. His voice was miserable and resigned. “Crowley. Can we skip this? I know why I am here, what I did, and where I go now. Just let me do it.”

         Crowley had never seen Moose this broken, not even during the trials. He also knew that if little brother was here, big brother would rip Hell apart to find him. That was not the kind of hassle he wanted. Not at all. Heaven could have him. “No. It is only a matter of time before a very angry Squirrel figures out what you did. I don’t want you here when that happens. More over, _I_ don’t want to be here when that happens. Get out.” With that he snapped his fingers and the soul of Sam Winchester went to Heaven.

~

Dean woke to a searing pain in his arm. The Mark glowed brightly in the night, burning a flaming orange. It then vanished, leaving pale unmarked skin. “Sammy” he called, “what did you do?” There was no answer. Dean ran down the hall and flicked the light on in Sam’s room. The bed was empty, blankets strewn on the floor and the sheet was gone. Sam’s favorite hoodie was neatly folded on the desk along side his favorite gun. Dean had to fight the sudden urge to be sick. His words from earlier echoed in his mind, as did Sam’s response. His eyes roved over the room, looking for something. Sam’s laptop was closed and there was a folded piece of paper on top with Dean’s name written in Sam’s scrawling hand. Dean moved to the desk and with shaking hands, he picked up the note and unfolded it.

         “Dean, I am sorry. You were right. It should have been me up there, not Charlie. If I had been able to do this weeks ago when I found out, it would’ve been. I was weak, and I knew you’d try to stop me. I had to wait until you were angry at me, maybe even hated me. God knows I hate myself right now. I found a way to remove the Mark.” Dean winced. He could hear Sam drawing a breath before writing more. He did the same thing. “’A burnt offering of brother’s heart blood, freely given.’ This was written in the margin of an old book.  If you are reading this, then it worked. As you can see by the missing sheet, I took care of the salt ‘n’ burn part too. If you want to check my burn job because I need a chaperone, ~~I’m~~ my pyre is in the clearing on the other side of the woods behind the bunker.” The writing blurred a little here. Dean couldn’t tell if it was his tears or Sam’s that had fallen on the page. He wiped his hand down his face. This wasn’t what he meant to have happen. He looked at the paper again, it was definitely spotted with two different sets of tear stains.

“I am not going to make you promise anything. However, I want you to have a life. Go find Lisa and Ben again (hah, you can’t break my nose if I’m dead). Keep hunting, retire and become a Man of Letters, do something. You deserve to be free. Free of the Mark, free of me.

 If you can’t, hit “send” on my laptop. It is an email to Garth explaining care of Baby, and gives him ownership of the bunker. This is not the path I want for you, but I understand if it’s what you want. Again, I’m so sorry. I love you. –Sam”

Dean wanted to crunch the paper. He wanted to hit something, to kill rip and shred until Sam was safe. This was worse than Stull. At least then Sam had acted to save the world, not just his eminently unworthy brother. He opened Sam’s laptop with a little more force than necessary. On the screen was an email to Garth explaining things just as Sam said. Dean hit “Send” and went after his brother. He paused at the Impala. His Baby glistened in the moonlight. She called to him to climb inside and drive until all of this was a dot in the rearview. He couldn’t. He had left his keys next to Sam’s set in the drawer where Garth would find them.

Dean could see the smoke before he saw the fire. The well built pyre held the burning figure of his brother, mostly wrapped in a sheet pulled over his head. His arms were pulled tight across his chest as death and fire had tightened muscle and skin. Dean could see the hunting knife embedded in the ground near a backpack. Dean threw up loudly on the ground. He had spent his whole life avoiding this. Fighting it. He had gone to Hell to reverse exactly this. He knew he couldn’t undo it. No demon would make a deal with a Winchester. Not even Crowley. However, he was not about to leave his brother in Hell to deal with it alone. Dean looked in the backpack. He saw the sawed off full of rock salt and a regular gun. Dean smiled sadly, knowing that even in death his baby brother looked out for him.

Dean grabbed both guns and braced himself for the pain of the rock salt round he pumped into himself. It knocked him on his ass, almost sending him into the pyre. He lay there for a few moments, collecting himself. Then he stood with his back to the fire, leaning back slightly. He settled the gun against the underside of his chin and squeezed the trigger. His body sagged back against Sam’s pyre. Soon both Winchesters were alight.

~

It hadn’t been more than an hour since Sam had been in front of him. The heavy doors of the throne room burst open to admit the very angry soul of Dean Winchester. “Crowley, you son of a bitch. Where is he? Where’s my brother?”

Crowley sighed his most expressive sigh. This is precisely what he had hoped to avoid. “Squirrel. He’s not ‘ere.”

Dean stormed in front of the King of Hell and stopped just short of the demon. “What do you mean? He is a suicide. Suicides go to Hell.”

Crowley laughed. “And you’re here to do what? If I am not mistaken you followed him along the same path. What, exactly, are you expecting to accomplish?”

Dean’s bluster faded. “I just want my brother.”

Crowley frowned. This was no fun. “I sent him up.” Crowley pointed towards the ceiling. “You and he can be Heaven’s problem. Not mine.” He snapped his fingers and Dean’s soul followed Sam’s.

~

Garth arrived several hours after getting the email. He went inside and found the wonders of the bunker. He went back outside and looked at the Impala. He ran loving fingers over her and got in. The seat was way too far back and he pulled it forward. He put the keys in and turned over the engine. She started with a grumble and then the door swung open. Garth pulled it closed, but it just swung open again. Then the seat moved back where it had been. Garth sighed. The big car couldn’t be possessed or haunted. Dean had inscribed warding into the frame when he rebuilt her and she had an anti-possession design etched into the metal inside her hood, over her engine. He looked around the car, seeing the Legos in the vents and the army man in the ashtray. He saw the initials carved into the floorboards. This car was as much a Winchester as Sam and Dean. He got out, leaving the engine running and addressed the car. “Anything I should grab before I let you go do what you have to do?”

         The trunk and weapons cache opened and stayed open without a prop. Garth eyed the contents and emptied the weapons, all but the angel blades, into a spare duffle. He wasn’t sure why he left those, but somehow it seemed right. He also left the large bag of salt and the first aid kit. He saw a glint of bronze and pulled out the amulet that Dean always used to wear. He held it in his hand for a moment before hanging it from the rearview. He went to shut the trunk and found it already closed. He looked at the car for a while. “I guess that’s it. You know that they’re really not coming back, don’t you?” He could hear “Wayward Son” playing through the closed windows. He gently patted the roof. “Goodbye, Ol’ girl.” With a roar of her engine, the Impala took off down the road. She maneuvered up an access road to the clearing where her boys had gone. Garth was just going inside the bunker when he heard the explosion.

~

         Crowley was having a very bad day. First Moose, then Squirrel. He was done. He stood up to get a drink and found himself suddenly nose to grill with the soul of Baby. Her engine growled menacingly. Crowley growled back. “I am the fucking King of HELL!!” he told her. “What is it with you Winchesters? They. Are. Not. Here. Not ever, no more. Now get the fuck out of my face.” He snapped his fingers and the big car was gone upstairs. A large smile split his face as Crowley imagined the havoc that was going to happen in Heaven now that all three of them were up there together.

~

         Sam stood in a clearing staring at nothing. Whatever made daylight here seemed about mid day. He wasn’t in some memory, like the last time. He just stood there, waiting, trying not to hope the thing he secretly hoped. Sam knew in his heart that he would be alone, forever. That is what he deserved.

         “I knew I should’ve brought beer. The Vikings had the right idea about sending things with the dead. Do you think we can find Ash?” Dean’s voice sounded behind him.

         Sam turned and gave his brother a huge hug. They were dead, so breathing was not an issue as Sam’s sasquatch arms wrapped around. After a moment of realizing that he was not being squeezed to death, Dean hugged back. Then he pulled away.

         “Thanks and all, but that was incredibly stupid of you.” Then he punched Sam in the nose.

         Sam backed away, holding his nose, but no blood spurted and it didn’t hurt. “I suppose I had that coming.”

         “Damn right. I warned you.” The words carried little heat. “So now what? I guess this is real Heaven. Crowley kicked us out of Hell and this sure ain’t Purgatory.”

         Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Cas should be around here somewhere. Mom and Dad too. I guess we walk.” They walked for a while before they reached a road. It was an unmarked black road, like so many they had traveled before. There was nothing to indicate which way to travel.

         They were considering direction when a familiar sound split the air. The very distinct rumble of an engine preceded the arrival of the Impala. She looked better than ever as she pulled up in front of the boys and opened the front doors. A very throaty voice from the radio made Dean smile and Sam jump. “Hi boys. Get in.”

         Dean climbed reverently into the driver’s seat and caressed the steering wheel and dash. The car actually shivered slightly and growled her engine. Sam stared for a moment, unsure if he should give them a moment. He had always known that Dean had a thing for his car, he never knew she felt the same way. He mentally filed that thought to poke at later and got in. “Um. You can talk.”

         “Of course. Always could.  Though only Dean could hear me before.” The voice sounded amused. “Dean, Garth left something for you on the rearview.”

         Dean looked up at the amulet. He reached for it slowly, then glanced at Sam. The last time Dean had seen this is when he had thrown it away after their last trip to Heaven.

         Sam smiled at his brother. It was the first deep smile in a long time. It reminded Dean of a time before all of this. A time when Sam smiled with dimples and sparkling eyes. Sam’s voice was a little thick when he spoke. “I picked it up after you threw it out. I kept it in the back of the Impala under everything. I hoped that one day you would want it back.” Sam searched Dean’s face looking for approval.

         Dean reached up and took the amulet. Wordlessly he slipped it over his head and settled it against his shirt. He had forgotten how comforting a weight it was. He looked at Sam. “I never should have thrown this away. I was mad and hurt.” He cleared his throat and prepared for the chick flick moment. “I knew it hurt you that I did it, but then it was too late. I can’t believe you rescued it and kept it in the car so that even when you went…, you were gone, it was with me.”

         Sam reached out and clasped Dean’s shoulder briefly. “I know, now. I should have said something earlier. But there was never a right time. Then there was the Mark and everything. I also didn’t know,” he blinked tears out of his eyes and cleared his throat, “I didn’t know if you would want it again.” He left his head droop and Dean could see the strain that both sharing and not knowing had put on him. “I didn’t fully know if this would work.” Sam waved his hand vaguely at his chest. “I knew on my part it was heart’s blood freely given, but I didn’t know if we were too far apart.”

         Dean felt like an ass. His brother had spent his life and condemned his soul on something he didn’t even know would work. On a cure that may have not been effective to save someone he thought only mostly wanted to be his brother. Granted, the final outcome was not ideal, but Sam had sacrificed himself for his brother, knowing Hell awaited. Dean wept, unabashedly cried.

         “You get tears on my leather, I will kick your ass, Dean Winchester.” Baby’s voice broke the silence. Dean wiped his face on his jacket sleeve and looked at the dash.

         “How are you here? Last I checked cars didn’t have souls to even go to Heaven and you don’t feel like a memory. You feel like you.” Sam had recovered more quickly and had been pondering the question for a while.

         Baby made a huffing noise through the vents and the Legos rattled. “Honey, you think a car like me doesn’t have soul? As for the rest, I exploded.”

         Dean looked horrified. “How? Who did it?”

         “I knew by the way you two left me that you weren’t coming back. Without you two I am not Baby. I am a ’67 Impala that used to belong to Dean Winchester. I couldn’t do that. I tried for Garth, but I just couldn’t. Somehow he understood and started me up and let me go. I went up to that same clearing and exploded.”

         Dean leaned back in his seat, hands still on the wheel his expression had softened from horror to sadness.

Sam tilted his head the way he did when he was figuring something out. “You ended up in front of Crowley. I suppose what you did was suicide, so yeah.”

          Dean’s face split into a sudden grin. “I would’ve liked to see that. My Baby going nose to grill with Crowley.” He gently thumped the steering wheel.

         “It was pretty impressive. He had my boys and I was’t letting you be alone. Except that he didn’t have you. He yelled at me and called me a Winchester. Then he kicked me out.”

         Sam looked from the dash to Dean. “I ended up in front of Crowley too. I knew what I did and why I did it and I was ready to accept the consequences. He told me that you would tear the place apart looking for me, so he booted me up.”

         Dean smirked. “I did just that. I charged in on him and made it clear that I was not going to be some demon’s bitch and neither were you. He backed off and agreed with me. Hence.” Dean indicated the current situation. “Today has been rough for Crowley.”

         Sam grinned. “Yes it has. Now what?”

         Dean got out and opened the trunk. The weapons were pretty cleaned out except for angel blades. There was the first aid kit as well. He shut the trunk and got back in the car. “I think Garth left us angel blades. I think we go find people and kill angels we don’t like or who try to stop us.”

         Sam nodded. “Finding people, killing things. Family business, Heaven version. Sounds good to me.”

         Baby purred as she pulled onto the road and drove away.


End file.
